


Altered

by Rehabilitated_Sith



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Worlds, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective!Robins, Short Stories, Tim!centric, batfam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-05-15 10:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehabilitated_Sith/pseuds/Rehabilitated_Sith
Summary: INTERLUDE: Chapter 8: Never Again. This one is meant to hurt. Beware.All the stories I want to write but don’t have time to fully flesh out.Short stories/one-shots/Drabbles





	1. Insomnia

Insomnia:

 

Red Hood cursed under his breath as he paused for the tenth time that morning. Standing on the edge of Wayne Tower, he tapped the side of his helmet, he changed the lenses from night vision to thermal. He registered the small bodies of heat, none of which was his target. He dismissed the owls and rats. Wrong vermin, he snarked to himself.

 

“Oh Jay, have you seen Tim? He hasn’t been around. We’re worried about him...”

 

“Oh gosh golly Dick, no I haven’t, but as the awesome brother that I am, would you like me to take the time out of my night to search for him?”

 

“Oh Jay, you’re the best.”

 

“‘Tis nothing but my brotherly duty.”

 

“Is that how you remember it? Cause I am pretty sure I remember it differently—-“

 

Jason started violently at the sound of Nightwing butting into his re-enactment. He retorted with a string of descriptive expletives that had Nightwing gasping in horror.

 

“If Agent A could hear you now...”

 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he can’t, isn’t it?”

 

“Isn’t what, Master Hood?”

 

“Gah—“ Jason flushed under his helmet at getting caught red hooded by the unflappable British butler who also doubles as the grandfather in their patchwork family.

 

“I do thank you for putting in the efforts to track down our way word Red Robin.”

 

“Uh, yeah sure, A. Don’t mention it.”

 

Recognizing he had dithered on that particular roof long enough, Red Hood checked the interactive map provided by Oracle with all the known haunts of Red Robin’s against the layer of places already checked. He narrowed his eyes at the realizing of a building suspiciously missing a mark. 

 

“Are you kidding...?”

 

“What was that Master Hood?”

 

“Ah, nothing, A. I remembered some place that I hadn’t checked it. I’ll report in if it pans out.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“Keep us informed Jay.”

 

“No names over comms, Dickface.”

 

“You started it!”

 

“I didn’t realize I was being stalked!”

 

“Not my fault you talk to yourself.”

 

Red Hood growled as he tapped the area near his ear, cutting off transmissions from Nightwing. Pulling out his grapple, he aimed carefully before he set off on his new path. Swinging through the air was a rush that was unlike anything else he experienced and for just a moment, Red Hood understood Nightwing’s love of the trapeze. These were the times he regretted wearing the helmet, he missed the way the wind caressed his hair as he angled his body to cut the line and reapply it. He also recognized that he was grateful for the helmet whenever a blow made it past his defenses. 

 

Several minutes later, the Red Hood touched down on a slightly sagging roof in Crime Alley. Double checking his surroundings, He made his way inside. Carefully he disabled the traps and security measures he encountered as he passed through the levels to his focal point. With a smirk, he bypassed the last of them to enter the domain of the apparently elusive Red Robin. Once securely inside, Jason removed his helmet, and shook his head slightly to dislodge his hair from his ‘helmet head’, before running a hand through it for good measure.

 

“Yo, Timbo, you here?”

 

Setting down the helmet, Jason walked the interior as he listened for any sounds of occupancy. Poking his head into the bedroom, he shook it in exasperation and the carefully constructed chaos that Tim always claimed was in some sort of order.Alfred would flip if he saw this mess. With a smirk, he pulled his phone out and took a few pictures for blackmail. As a concerned brother it is my duty to inform him of the deplorable condition’s my younger brother lives in.

 

After verifying that Tim wasn’t hiding from him, he wouldn’t pull it past him, the little punk. Jason checked the vents in the closet for good measure, remembering the one time he had crashed at his place and found a sick Tim hiding there. It had been hilarious in a pathetic sort of way that he had been hiding from the family when they started to pester him too much about his habits.

 

Walking back into the main area, he eyed the fish tank as he approached. Leaning down, he eyed the fish casually swimming around. Clever boy. He noted the slightly jerky motions of the fish. Peering closely, he smirked in satisfaction. Yup. Fake. The lenses for eyes were what gave them away, Jason had no doubt that a live feed fed into Tim’s command center. Searching his mind, he paused just long enough to confirm that he memory was in fact correct before he reached it and set off the hidden trigger that cause Tim’s door to open to the lower levels. 

 

Stepping inside, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the sudden bright, artificial light that assaulted him upon entrance.

 

“Damn Timmers, I need to ask for a raise in my allowance.”

 

The slighter frame of Tim Drake started, in a strangely sluggish manner as he turned away from the huge screens he was currently working on.

 

“J-Jason? What are you doing here?”

 

Jason observed the way Tim’s eyes squinted in his direction, the slight tremor in his hands as he brushed his errant hair out of his eyes. He noted the dark smudges under Tim’s eyes, the rumpled clothing, the nearly drained coffee pot off to the side. 

 

With a sigh, Jason moved to join him at the screens, barely giving the information on it a glance as he studied the boy out of the corner of his eye.

 

“I got a near frantic call early today—“

 

“What happened? Is it Alfred? Bruce? Dick?—-Er, the demon?”

 

“Actually it was about you.”

 

“Me?” Tim just blinked at him, his glassy eyes searching Jason’s as if he could find the answer there.

 

“Yes, apparently missing family meals, patrols and meetings at Wayne Enterprises without so much as a peep to anyone is worrisome.”

 

“Missing—-?”

 

“Yes, missing. As in not heard from; not being seen for days on end.”

 

“Days—?”

 

“Are You isn’t he habit of repeating people? Cause I got to tell you Tiny Tim, that. Can get irritating. Real fast.”

 

“Oh. Um—-sorry?”

 

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“How about you just tell me why, you went silent.”

 

“Sure. First things first, uh, what time is it?”

 

“Four fifty-six.”

 

“Am or Pm?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

Tim shrugged before turning back to the screens and with a few keystrokes he had his information. 

 

“I guess I did miss dinner tonight. Alfred was probably upset, huh? Damn.”

 

“Tonight? Yeah, and the night before that and before that.”

 

Tim craned his neck up at Jason, before returning to his screen and taping a few more keys.

 

“Damn. I did.”

 

“When was the last time you slept?”

 

“Uh, if it is—-“ Tim double checks the date, squinting as he tries to focus his eyes, “Friday, then about 51 hours-ish?”

 

Jason stared down him, blinked and continued to stare.

 

“Is that why the clown won’t leave me along? He just keeps staring at him, grinning.” Tim’s voice was devoid of emotion, his gaze fixed just behind Jason.

 

Whirling around, guns already in hand, Jason’s eyes hunted for any sign of a ‘clown’. He jerked back towards Tim when he heard him start laughing. It wasn’t Tim’s normal laugh, light and airy; nor even, his full blown hysterical laughing, where he has to grasp his sides because he was getting stitches. This was a slightly high pitch, hysterical laughing. It caused the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck to stand on end. 

 

It didn’t last long, but it sent Jason into motion.

 

“Up you get Tim, you need to sleep.”

 

The laughter died immediately, as Tim stumbled to his feet with Jason’s help. He weakly pushed against the rock that was Jason’s much broader chest.

 

“I-I can’t I have too much to do. There’s this new dealer—-“

 

“Don’t care.”

 

“—-And Dick needs—-um, needs my help with something. I can’t remember what but I am sure it was important.”

 

“He’ll get over it.”

 

Tim is able to get his arm free from Jason’s grip, and falls back into his chair, nearly missing it in a fit of incoordination. Jason growls at his incorporation.

 

“B is counting on me—-“

 

“—To take care of yourself.”

 

“I-I am fine. Fine. I am fine.”

 

“Clearly,” Jason shot back.

 

Tim just concentrated on the screens in front of him, steadfastly ignoring his looming presence. Seeing that Tim was completely focused on his task, Jason set his plan in motion. He knew about Tim’s habits and he had come prepared. 

 

“Well, if you’re going to continue to work, you need at least something warm in your stomach. When was the last time you ate?”

 

Tim’s fingers stopped their typing, as he had to concentrate on the question. When an answer wasn’t immediately forth coming, Jason sighed heavily.

 

“Kitchen? You have one on this floor, right?”

 

Tim’s shaky finger pointed in its direction, before he returned to his screens. Jason set off in that direction, grumbling under his breath all the while. Once he was in the kitchen, he pulled out his phone and called the Manor.

 

“Hey, Alfie, I found our boy. He’s completely sleep-deprived, more than normal I would say.” Jason listened for a minute.

 

“No, I would say he hasn’t eaten in awhile either.”

 

Another pause.

 

“I got this. Get the worrywart to stop worrying. I got this. Yeah, after I get some food and sleep in him, I’ll bring him by and you guys can hopefully instill some self preservation into him.”

 

Another pause.

 

“Actually, I was thinking about some soup. If it has been awhile, I agree that something easy on his stomach is preferable. Luckily, he seems to have a stock of canned food. That’s a good idea, thanks Alf.”

 

 

 

Tim barely notices when Jason renters the room. It was the smell that got his attention. Pausing, he turns to follow his nose and finds a seeming bowl of hearty soup. 

 

“Did you make this?”

 

“Actually, I called GrubHub. They now deliver to masked vigilantes and we get a discount. 35%.”

 

When Tim doesn’t refute his snark, he knows the kid must be almost brain dead with fatigue. While Tim starts in with small bites, Jason glances at the screen and nearly chokes. A case file as open, and instead of the normal report, it was a mash of gibberish and incomplete sentences. Knowing that the kid could easily get a report out faster than any other and with more detail, this concerned and reinforced his determination to get him to sleep. 

 

Glancing back down, he was pleased to see that Tim had finished the soup, going so far as to scrape the bottom of the bowl.

 

“Wow, thanks Jason, that was really good. Dick did always say you could cook the best out of all the Robins.”

 

Jason flushed at the praise, clearing his throat uncomfortably. 

 

“Um, you didn’t happen to make a fresh pot did you?”

 

“Of coffee? No, but I did find this herbal tea that helps with digestion. When you haven’t eaten in awhile your stomach can start to rebel, so I thought this might be easier.”

 

Tim stared up at him, his eyes wide. 

 

The naked wonder in those large eyes was disconcerting. Jason didn’t like that this small act was being to well received.

 

“Here, drink it.”

 

Gingerly, Tim took the proffered cut and took a little sip. He smacked his lips lightly, “Is that mint and Chamomile?”

 

“It’s supposed to be calming.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Jason queried.

 

“It’s not like I don’t want to sleep. I do. I just. I just can’t stop thinking.” Frown lines marred his brow as Tim fought to put words to his problem. He body swayed slightly.

 

Jason leaned forward, ready to intervene.

 

“There’s just, so much. So much to do. I need to be ready.”

 

“Ready? Ready for what?”

 

Now it was Jason’s turn to frown.

 

“Everything.”

 

“You can’t be ready for everything. It’s impossible.”

 

“I have to try. Otherwise, someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t want anyone else....to...die,” Tim slurs.

 

Jason removes the nearly empty cup from Tim’s hands and set’s it down away from the keyboard. Grasping his wrist, he pulls Tim up, taking his weight as he sags completely against the taller man.

 

“You—drugged—-me.”

 

“Guilty.”

 

“—No ....fair,” Tim pouts.

 

“You need to sleep.”

 

“Do....not.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes at Tim’s petulance but let’s it go considering just how sleep-deprived he is. He takes a moment to adjust his hold, vaguely wondering the best way to get him upstairs. Finally he shrugs and sweeps him into his arms, ignoring a faint squeak from the now barely conscious Tim. He far too easily climbs the stairs, pausing for the automatic doors to open before he treks him to his bedroom. Nudging the door open with his shoulder, Jason carefully picks his way through the chaos until he is able to lay the limp Tim on his bed. 

 

With a grumble, he looks around and grabs a shirt off of the floor. Taking a look at it, he grins unrepentantly before he helps Tim out ofhis current shirt and replaces it with the oversized Superman crest one. With the shirt reaching to nearly mid thigh, Jason removes the stiff jeans and leaves him in his boxers before covering him with the blankets.

 

“Sleep.” Jason reminds the still fighting Tim.

 

“Must. Prepare. Can’t lose you.”

 

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we can’t lose you either?” 

 

That rebuke seems to startle Tim into silence. After a minute of no response, Jason realizes that maybe Tim hasn’t. Jason understands what that’s like and vows to make him understand. Glancing down at the floor, his lip curls. Nope. Not happening. In the end, Jason can’t resist, and with a newly slumbering younger bro just feet away he get’s to picking up the mess that is the floor and straightening the room.

 

——-

Rehabilitated Sith 6/13/19

 

Well, this was one thought that wouldn’t leave me alone.

So some of these will be drabbles, one-shots and short stories. Ideas that have bugged me and I didn’t want to plan a full multi-fic about it. Hope you liked it. Please let me know your thoughts. I always love seeing alerts, favs and of course my soul-food: reviews.

 

Ciao.

 

ps: next chapter: The BodyGuard: Jason


	2. The Bodyguard: Jason I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason finds it difficult to do his job when Tim has no sense of self-preservation.

BODYGUARD: JASON I

 

Jason ducked behind the large metal dumpster, gun in either hand, swear words on his tongue.

 

“Damn, boy genius, why does it seem like everyone is trying to either kill or kidnap you?”

 

“I’m popular,” came the nonchalant reply.

 

“Well, could you tone it down bit?”

 

“Sorry.” There was no remorse in his voice.

 

“Are you on your phone? In the middle of a shoot out?”

 

“I still have deals to make Jay,” Tim Drake replied. He allowed himself a brief glance towards his bodyguard before returning his attention to his small electronic device.

 

Jason took a second to peer around the dumpster, just long enough to count the number of assailants before he returned to his position of defense. Several vibrations thrummed against their bodies as the impact of multiple bullets weakened their current shielding. Jason growled low in his throat, he took a few moments and let a few rounds go. Beside him, Tim continued to type away on his phone.

 

“You’re going to die with that thing in your hand,” Jason called over the noise.

 

“Oh, sorry, did you need my help?”

 

“NO, no I do not need your help! Last time you tried to help you almost got yourself killed!”

 

“Hey, I saved your life!”

 

“It’s my job to save yours, not the other way around,” Jason retorted, as his hands released the magazines, and he slammed fresh ones into their slots while spinning around and firing. The grunts of pain letting them both know that they were down a few assailants. 

 

“Well, too bad. I am not letting someone die for me.”

 

That was the only warning Jason got before Tim’s head popped up over the dumpster. Tim’s arm arced, his phone sailing through the air. Jason grabbed him by the back of his jacket and yanked him down just as several bullets slammed into the spot his head had just been.

 

“You idiot——“ Jason’s words were cut off when a concussive wave slammed into the dumpster throwing it against the two. Jason immediate positioned his body over the smaller teen. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head a little as the high-pitch ringing in his ears throws off his equilibrium. 

 

“What the hell was that?!!” He shouted.

 

“My phone,” was Tim’s response.

 

“Why did your phone blow up?”

 

“I set it to.”

 

“You were carrying around an exploding phone in your pocket?!”

 

“You don’t? You weren’t a Boy Scout were you? Always be prepared.”

 

“Damn—alright, let’s go before they regroup.”

 

Jason hauled Tim to his feet, steading him when the kid wavered ever so slightly. With a single gun in hand, Jason covered Tim’s back as he eased them out of the hot zone and more towards safe territory.

 

“We’re going to have words when we get back.”

 

“Aren’t we having words now?”

 

“Ok, you want to do this now? Let’s do it now. Do you have a death wish?! Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

 

“You took my coffee.”

 

Jason stared at him. 

 

———

6/26/19 Rehabilitated Sith

 

Honestly, I had planned to post a different fic but it was too similar to the previous, so I went with this much shorter one. Heheh. 

 

My headcannon is that Jason and Tim are constantly bantering and fighting to save each other despite their different job positions. Latest, is that Jason switched Tim’s coffee for decaf and Tim is just getting his payback.


	3. Alls Well that Ends Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Damian's forced in the same small space. There may be blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual this is UNBeta'd so, sorry for any egregious errors. I really hope you enjoy this one. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Happy 4th to those who it means something to, and if not, hopefully you have an awesome day too!

-______________-

 

Alls Well that Ends in a Well.

 

It wasn’t pain that brought Timothy Jackson Drake back to the land of the living, it was a single shaft of evilness, something others would call sunlight. But this particular piece of sunlight was a concentrated shaft with all the softness of finely wielded katana. Groaning in annoyance, consciousness came with pain. Pain was everywhere. There was no piece of Tim Drake that didn’t throb with malicious glee. It took several tries before he was able to raise his left hand and make a feeble attempt at blocking that light. Squinting, he realized that the light was so sharp because it being concentrated through a series of hole, like using a magnifying glass to burn a hole in a leaf.

 

With great regret, Tim shifted in an attempt to avoid said evil sunlight. It worked. Now that the light wasn’t attempting to give him unwanted lasik surgery, he glanced around his surrounding, finally registering the rough stone at his back. Peering through the small shafts of light created by the grate covering overhead, he could see that he was in a rather large well, whose height was approximately 25 feet above him. Next thing he realized as that the ground beneath him was damp.

 

The moment he attempted to gathering his limbs beneath him, he gasped at the onslaught of sudden and all consuming pain. He froze, his breath stolen from him. Somehow a groan was able to escape his breathless lips. He lay there panting as he tried to regulate his breathing and control the pain. In, out, in, hold, out. Repeating it several times, he was finally able to think. With even slower motions, he shifted his right hand enough to brace himself up. He frowned. He glanced down, and squinted in the poor light. There was something that glinted in the light. He raised his right hand and watched as a chain followed the hand, drooping down and trailing off to the dark side of the enclosure. He dropped his hand and winced as the metal clanged in response. He raised his hand once more, and the same thing happened. He stared at his hand for a moment more before realization hit him. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, he could feel the dampness seeping in through his slacks. He wasn’t taken as Red Robin.

 

‘Wha-what happened? How did I get here? Why—-? OK, Think Drake. Think.’ His mind sluggishly tried to review his last memories but it was hard for him to concentrate. He gave his head a little shake and immediately regretted it. Bright white lights burst in his vision, tinged with blackness around the edges. ‘Ok, bad idea. Possible concussion. Check. I was—-in a car. Alfred had sent the car to pick me up from Wayne Enterprises——Why hadn’t he come himself—-?Oh, he was taking Bruce to the airport. Um, then what?’

 

Tim shivered a little and that brought his attention to that fact that he was cold. Intellectually he knew that because he was farther underground the temperature was much cooler but it wasn’t until that moment that he realized something else. Glancing back down at this hands, he realized what was missing. His watch. Once that registered he realized a few more important things, his socks and shoes were missing; he blamed the concussion for his lack of mental acuity. A quick check verified what he should have already noticed, his keys, wallet and few other personal items were missing but they left his blazer on.

 

‘So they were preventing any useful tools of escape. Not quite amateurs then. Great, Damian is going to kill me for being late.’

 

Dread laced his stomach. ‘We were on our way to pick him up from school. Did we? Is he still there? Will he send word I’m missing? No, wait. We DID pick him up. We were on our way back.’

 

“Damian...?” The word escaped his mouth before he could stop it.

 

The only sound to reach his ears was the faint chinking over his chains as he moved a little to secure a better, and hopefully less painful position.

 

He breathed out a sigh of relief, ‘as long as Damian is out there, he can alert someone that something is wrong.’

 

Something moved in the area opposite where Tim currently lay, the area where no light shone through. Tim wasn’t sure how he was able to tell but he saw something in the dark. Freezing, despite knowing that he was under full illuminationand had no where to hide, Tim hoped that the lack of motion would cause whatever it was to ignore him.

 

The chinking of the chains being rattled echoed around Tim as he waited with baited breath.

 

“Nugh.”

 

The sound of a painful groan startled Tim enough to startle. He waited, not breathing, as the sounds seemed to escalate. His eyes zeroed in on the shape currently moving around, he watched as the shape coalesced into a humanoid figure and rose out of the dark and into the light.

 

“No.”

 

Tim closed his eyes in resignation.

 

“Dr..a...ke...?”

 

The sounds of stumbling snapped his eyes open in time to see Damian Wayne totter unsteadily towards him. Tim hissed as he struggled to his knees in time to steady the boy, who weakly slapped at his hands. The older boy wasn’t deterred, instead using his strength to guide the younger boy down next to him, close enough to be in the light but far enough to give him a measure of space.

 

“Damian, can you hear me?”

 

“I..am not deaf...you—-you—“

 

The lack of a strong retort increased Tim’s concern by ten fold. Damian never passed an opportunity to send scathing remarks.

 

“I need to check you for a concussion, OK?”

 

Damian didn’t even answer, he tipped sideways until he came to rest partially laying down, his eyes half lidded.

 

“No, no. Come on Damian, you have to stay awake. You know how this works.”

 

“Leave me be—-you—-imbecile—“

 

Sighing, Tim slowly lifted Damian’s upper body enough that he was able to tilt his chin towards the light. He watched the pupil’s reaction and frowned.

 

“Dam—er. Severe concussion. Looks like no sleep for you.”

 

Tim grunted as he felt himself fall backwards, pain screaming through his side.

 

“What the hel—Damian!” Tim snarled, as he wrapped one arm around his middle in a poor attempt to soothe it from the kick the little brat responded with.

 

“Do’t ‘oucmer.”

 

Tim watched as Damian swayed drunkenly. He watched as the kid used a hand to prop himself up against the wall. He watched as the kid blinked slowly.

 

“You can’t fall asleep.”

 

“I’no tat—“

 

There was a break of silence, that became more oppressive the longer it lingered. Tim fidgeted, knowing that he needed to take control, to keep Damian from falling into the seductive embrace that was slumber. After several long minutes, he came to a decision.

 

“What are the symptoms of a concussion?” Tim barked sharply,

 

It took Damian a long moment to answer, “Headache or a feeling of pressure in the head; Temporary loss of consciousness, Confusion or feeling as if in a fog, Amnesia surrounding the traumatic event, Dizziness or "seeing stars”, Ringing in the ears, Nausea, Vomiting, Slurred speech, Delayed response to questions, Appearing dazed, Fatigue.”

 

“In children?”

 

“Particularly in children: Listlessness and tiring easily, Irritability and crankiness, Loss of balance and unsteady walking, Crying excessively, Change in eating or sleeping patterns, Lack of interest in favorite toys.”

 

“Good.” Tim was pleased to note that his response was concise. He debated the next question.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I got hit on the head. Imbecile.”

 

Tim just smiled at the response.

 

“Irritability, check.”

 

“Dr—“

 

“Kidding, kidding.”

 

“There- there was a car accident, yes?” Damian questioned, his brow furrowed in concentration.

 

It took Tim a moment to shift gears.

 

“Yes, that’s right. We had picked you up and were returning but—“

 

“There was a road closure—“

 

“So we took a detour—“

 

“Trap, no doubt—“

 

“The driver—!” Tim gulped as he remembered the harsh sounds of glass breaking, metal screeching and tires burning.

 

“You—you put your arm out—“

 

“Just a reflex—“

 

“—why?”

 

“Why a reflex?”

 

“Why did you try to help? I don’t need your help! I—I—“ the effort it took for Damian to recall and the emotional response seemed to cause his sentences to fracture at the end.

 

“I know you don’t, you are capable, but—“ Tim cut himself off, needing to reign in his own thoughts. He could recall the terror at the information that had flowed through his brain moments before impact. The statistics of seatbelts and what they could do to someone of Damian’s size. The placement of the cross strap always rode high on the shorter Wayne, dangerously close to his neck.

 

“I—er—used to have to do that to my laptop when there was sudden breaking.”

 

“Great, my value has dropped to that of an electronic device,” Damian had snarled back.

 

Tim’s lips twitched, considering it was Tim’s laptop and the high regard he had for such things, one could have argued the value he had for it but he let it go. He was relieved that he had gotten a response after the long periods of silence.

 

“I wonder if Alfred knows yet?”

 

“I am sure Pennyworth has taken note of my absence.”

 

“No doubt, he is missing the disdain being thrown about the manor.”

 

“It’s not if anyone would miss you—“

 

Tim was proud of the fact that he didn’t flinch at the reminder. Despite having the same barbs thrown in his direction repeatedly it didn’t take the sting away. Not yet anyways. He sighed as he glanced up to check the direction of the sun. A quick calculation gave him an approximate timeline.

 

“By now, it’s been several hours. Alfred should have returned from the airport.”

 

Damian grumbled something under breath and Tim just ignored it as he observed him shiver.

 

Tim shrugged out of his jacket and paused as he realized that the cuff on wrist prevented him from fully removing the garment. He tugged on the chain and watched as it slithered his way. The chain seemed to snake around into the dark side. With renewed determination Tim pulled at the chains, after he had about ten feet of it now piled next to him he stop when he heard Damian cry out.

 

He glanced over and found that Damian had fallen onto his hands and knees. Time looked down then over to Damian. He tugged on the chains and saw the results when Damian fell forward before he caught himself.

 

“Stop that you moron!”

 

“The chain is connected? Why?”

 

Damian sat back on his haunches and pursed his lips. He grabbed the end of his own chain and tugged. Tim tugged at the same time. They both came to the same realization.

 

“The chain won’t meet us in the middle.”

 

“There’s something stopping it.”

 

Damian blindly groped in the darkness for where the chain met. His hand met a half moon protruding from the ground.

 

“The chain is restricted by a bolt in the middle,” he reported.

 

“Why? We can move the chain back and forth to shorten and lengthen the chain—?”

 

 

“To prevent us from escaping. Clearly,” Damian scoffed.

 

“So, why not just bolt us both to the floor, why give the illusion of freedom? Can we dig it up? Dig around it?”

 

Damian followed by Tim started in on the task. They hand scrapping at the dampground.

 

“No. There’s cement underneath. We’re stuck.”

 

“I don’t suppose that they didn’t search you thoroughly?”

 

“They did. I already verified.”

 

Tim resumed his study of the chain. He peeled his jacket off and slid it down the chain, pausing only slightly when he had to force it to through the tight half moon bolt before he met up with Damian’s hand.

 

Damian flinched back, “What are you doing? Do not touch me.”

 

“Put it on—“

 

“I will not wear your cast offs.”

 

“Damian, the temperature is dropping, you know as well as I do that hypothermia is a real problem, especially down here. Because of your size you will be in the more immediate danger. Now suck it up and put it on.”

 

Damian refused for another few frustrating minutes before he relented and pulled the jacket on. Tim had to turn his face away so the boy couldn’t see the amusement lighting his face at the jacket nearly swallowing the boy. Like when a son plays dress up with their parents clothing. The sudden thought sent an ache down his stomach. His mind casting back to when he as a child and he was alone in the house. He had done the same thing when he missed his Dad. Sometimes he would put on his jackets’ just so he could remember what his Dad’s aftershave smelled like. He stopped when the housekeeper caught him.

 

“Why is it wet?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Your jacket. Why is it wet?”

 

“Well, it is damp down here.”

 

“No, not right—here——“ Damian paused, he had shifted so he could pull the jacket from his body and look it over in the fading light. There was still enough light to see that the dark blue jacket had a large brownish red stain. His fingers brushed over it, it was stiff but still a little wet. His fingers came away with a little bit of red on it.

 

“Blood—“

 

Tim shivered.

 

“You’re bleeding! You idiot!”

 

“Oh,” Tim responded, his hand went to the side corresponding to the stain. He could recognize the sticky shirt as it shifted with him.

 

“Let me see it—of all the—incapable of—self-preservation—“

 

Numbly, Tim shifted so his side was facing Damian as he pulled his shirt up and away, grimacing as pan reminded him he was alive. He faintly heard the cursing as Damian shifted forward.

 

“How did you not notice?”

 

“Uh, high pain tolerance, I guess—?”

 

“You guess—?!”

 

Tim blinked. He glanced down at the gash that ran from his hip back around to under his ribs. He shivered as he felt Damian’s fingers ghost across his skin.

 

“It’s hot and red.”

 

“Infection.”

 

“Most likely.”

 

“I don’t have my meds,” Tim mumbled.

 

“Meds?”

 

“Yeah, uh, I have to take meds everyday to prevent infections and illnesses.”

 

“Why?! I do not remember this being something you did when I first came.”

 

“You wouldn’t—I didn’t need to until I lost my spleen.”

 

“You lost your spleen? How does one lose your spleen? When? Richard never mention this!”

 

“Uh, he doesn’t know.”

 

Damian sputtered at the thought of Dick not knowing something as vital as a missing organ in someone he considered a brother.

 

“Explain.”

 

“Why?”

 

“What do you mean, why? We are stuck down here, I have a concussion, you are bleeding out and have an infection and you question why I demand to know something as vital as missing an organ?!”

 

“Er—“

 

“Explain. Now.”

 

Tim took the time to pull his shirt back down, and clap one hand over the gash which was still oozing blood.  
  
“Happened while I was looking for Bruce, when he…er…left.”

 

“I understand. Proceed.”

 

“I enlisted the help of your Grandfather—“

 

“Grandfather—?!”

 

“Some stuff happened and I misplaced my spleen. So, yeah.”

 

“That sounds like a gross oversimplification.”

 

“The walls have ears.”

 

“What nonsense are you spewing? Walls cannot have ears.”

 

Tim angled his head and used his hands to flash a few signs that Damian immediately recognized.

 

“And so, you were stabbed and are without your meds while you have an infection.”

 

“That-that about sums it up,” Tim confirmed as he wiped sweat from his brow.

 

“Tt.”

 

Damian looked away, his hands fiddling with the edges of the cuffs of Tim’s jacket.

 

“We only need to hold on for a little bit longer. Dick will come to the rescue no doubt once realizes you are gone.”

 

“We are gone.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You said, once he realizes I am gone but he will come for you.”

 

“Yes, of course. Us.”

 

Damian bristled at the patronizing tone.

 

They fall back into an uneasy silence.

 

“He cares for you. The buffoon.”

 

“…”

 

“Richard, he cares for you.”

 

“…”

 

“Tt.”

 

Tim settled back down against the wall, relishing the coolness of the wall against his warm back.

 

“You can’t fall asleep.”

 

Tim starts, “Hm, not. Just resting my eyes.”

 

“You are supposed to be keeping me awake. Stop shirking your duty. Richard would be very disappointed.”

 

“Just-just give me a minute. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

Damian sits there in silence, pondering on the last part.

 

“What do you refer to, the first time?”

 

“Dis-disapppoint-ment….That’s my middle name—name. I thought you knew this.”

 

“Are you confunded as well?Your middle name is Jackson.”

 

Tim didn’t answer.

 

“Drake?”

 

Damian crawled over to the older boy. He shook his shoulder.

 

“Wake up. Wake up this instant!”

 

Tim’s head lolls to the side, as he sides bonelessly to the ground.

 

“Drake? Don’t you dare die on me. DRAKE!”

 

Damian’s hand moves, he strikes Tim on the face and recoils a moment later. Reaching back to the other side, he feels his forehead and swears.

 

“You have a fever! We need water—and—antibiotics—How could you loose your spleen? That was highly irresponsible. I do not give you permission to die!” Wake up! Drake! Wake up!”

 

Damian shakes him.

 

“Don’t leave me alone in here. I-I don’t want to—wake up, dammit. Please-“

 

“D..a..m…ii?”

 

Damian wouldn’t admit it outloud but the relief he felt was substantial.

 

“Drake! You have a fever! We need to cool you down.”

 

“I am cool.”

 

Damian groaned. Tim huffed.

 

“Imfne”

 

“Clearly. We’ve been gone for hours. They have to have noticed by now.”

 

“Y’now, I-I had always wanted a broth-brother.”

 

Damian noted the teeth chattering.

 

“It was so—cold. So lonely while my parents were gone.”

 

“They travelled, did they not?”

 

“They only travelled. Never stayed home.”

 

“They were—?”

 

“Archeologists, well, sort of.”

 

“I missed them. Well, not really them because they were never around but I missed what they could have been.” Tim paused in his ramblings as he inched closer to Damian who watched him from the corner of his eye.

 

“I-I just wanted to be part of a family.”

 

“You had a family.”

 

“No, we were—more like strangers who—lived together. Not family.”

 

Damian stilled.

 

“I-I was happy when I first heard Bruce had a kid. Well happy and nervous. Our family was expanding. I could be a big brother, like Dick had been to me.”

 

Damian cringed.

 

“I just—wanted to be a big brother. But I-I’m no good at it.”

 

Damian’s hands were back to playing with the sleeve.

 

“You should conserve your energy for when Richard comes.”

 

“He loves you, y’know. Like a lot.” Tim lets this last thought trail off.

 

Damian doesn’t like the silence that follows. He clears his throat, “he uh, cares for you, as well, Richard that is.”

 

“No. I know that I was just a placeholder. For Jason.”

 

“What are you blathering about? Clearly Richard cares for you.”

 

Tim stubbornly shook his head and Damian just scoffed.

 

They fell into the quiet again.

 

“I- I do regret, my actions that day I met you. It was unbecoming of a member of the Wayne name.”

 

Tim didn’t answer.

 

Damian peered over at him. He noted the closed eyes, the flush cheeks. He licked his lips. His mind cast around for something to say, to do. What would Richard do? He inched over closer, the chain trailing as he did. He put his hand on Tim’s forehead again to check his temperature and left it there when he felt movement beneath it. He froze. Tim was leaning into the touch.

 

‘No doubt the coolness of my hand is soothing to his fevered skin,’ Damian assures himself. He waits there until he cold feel the temperature between his hand and Tim’s forehead lessen. He removed his hand and shifted positions. Tim scooted closer. Damian stretched his other hand forward and left it in place, while his now warmed up hand brushed several long strands of bangs out of the way.

 

“You are in need of a haircut. It is unbecoming of the Wayne name to appear so…unkempt.”

 

“MnotaWayne.”

 

“Father adopted you, you are a Wayne. Even in the eyes of the law.”

 

Tim muttered discontentedly to himself. Damian watched him for a second, his mind spinning with the recent revelations.

 

“My Mother told me spoke of you—before—she left me with Father.”

 

Tim’s eyes opened a sliver, he studied Damian with cloudy eyes.

 

“She spoke of your intelligence, comparable to Father’s. While Richard was Father’s first, she spoke of you as being Father’s heir—“

 

Damian felt the slight motion as Tim started to shake his head in denial.

 

“—No. I do not want the cowl. I never wanted the cowl.”

 

“But you wore it—while Father was gone—“

 

“That wasn’t by desire. I-I had to get Dick to take it up and he refused. Did you want Jason to take it up?”

 

“No, of course not.”

 

“Me either—And I learned my lesson from the Alternate me. I swore to never put it on especially after that. Believe me, I do. not. want. it.”

 

Damian studied him, he watched for any tall tale signs of deception but all he saw was honesty.

 

“But Grandfather, he too has this——obsession with you—“

 

“Ugh, I know. Creepy old man.”

 

“I object to —!”

 

“He wanted to have an heir, through me. Creepy.”

 

Damian jerked back, his eyes wide.

 

“I rescind my previous objection.”

 

Tim nodded in acceptance, a wry smile on his lips.

 

“Do, do you want the cowl?” Tim queried.

 

“I-I did. I do. It is my birthright.”

 

“Just because you are his son, doesn’t mean you are bound to be anything but what you want.”

 

“I know that!”

 

“Do you? Will it make you happy?”

“What does happiness have to do with it?”

 

“That’s all Bruce wants for you. To be happy.”

 

Damian looked away, an unsettled feeling bubbled up in his stomach.

 

“I-I—“

 

Damian’s next thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of thunder, and the sudden vibration in the ground beneath them. They exchanged glances. Tim glanced up, noticing that the sun had set while they had spoken. Any light now was only provided from the moon. Tim cried out in warning just as a torrent of water cascaded from above. The force of itpinned the boys to the ground until there was enough water to lift them up. They tread water continuously for several long moments.

 

“Damian! At this rate we only have minutes before it is over our heads!” Tim called, in between spitting out mouthful of bitterly cold liquid. As he fought to keep his head above water and his eyes on Damian he noted that when he used his arms to propel himself it cause Damian to dip below the water line. They were already almost halfway to the top when the chains held them back. And then Tim understood.In order for one to survive the other would have to be sacrificed. To Tim it was a no brainer. Taking a breath, he forced himself under the water line and back towards the ground, allowing the chain to go slack on Damian’s side.

 

“Drake!” Damian had seen Tim go under.

 

“DRAKE!” He took a deep breath, and plugged down his hands searching fruitlessly for Tim. It took a good thirty seconds before his hand hit something. With eyes open, he could barely see the outline in the murky water. Using hand signals he motioned for Tim to ascend and take a breath and then they would alternate for as long as they could. Reluctantly, Tim went up, took a few moments to catch his breath before he went back down, deeper this time as the water had risen to a higher level. Damian took his turn and they went back and forth.

 

It was on Tim’s fifth trip that he knew he wouldn’t take another, the water level was getting to high, there wasn’t enough chain unless someone was on the bottom. When he went down, he motion for Damian to take the next one. He tried to protest, he too also knowing that their attempts were about to reach the end. Shaking his head, Tim motioned to his wound then to Damian.

 

‘I won’t last much longer, you have to survive.’

 

‘NO! We both do,’ Damian had protested.

 

Tim knew that Damian’s stubbornness knew no bounds. Having already anticipating this, Tim set his plan into motion. Bracing himself against the wall, he kicked Damian in the stomach hard enough that he exhaled all his breath. Instinct kicked in, and Damian was going towards the top. Tim watched him as he used his arms to force his body to the bolt. Once he reached it, wrapped a hand through it, anchoring himself in place and allowing Damian as much slack as he could. He watched mesmerized as the moonlight played through the water, casting shadows. His mind started to wander on its own as oxygen deprivation started to make itself known….

 

 

 

Damian coughed violently when he reached the surface, his mouth and nose just barely above the crest. Ragged breaths wracked his body as he fought to control the wheezing.

 

“Dr—ake—how dare —you!”

 

He was ashamed at how long it took to regain his regulated breathing. Objectively he knew that Tim could hold his breath longer than the average person thanks to his training but he wasn’t sure how long the exchange had been. He had lost count. The water had reached his mouth and was now covering it. His eyes teared up as he realized that Tim’s sacrifice would be in vain. The water reached his ears, and the results were fuzzy. He strained his eyes to the cover not a few feet above him. In his panic he swore he could see shadows move, shapes coalescing in the night. He swore he could hear voices. The water crested over his eyes. In desperation he threw out his hand, the one unchained. He strained, trying to reach the top but falling short. In his mind he snarled at his stature, cursing his genes, cursing Tim for his sacrifice and cursing Dick for failing them both. He started to sink, and he wondered if maybe Tim had already gone before him and his weight was now dragging him down as well. Damian felt the odd sensation as his hand slipped beneath the water just as he jolted to a stop. Something had a hold of his wrist. He dared not hope. Faith wasn’t something he had experience with.

 

There was a sharp tug bringing him upwards, Damian held his breath with all his might. He felt hands feeling his body trying to figure out what was keeping him tethered in place. He opened his eyes to see the blurry form of Dick. His face alight with panic. Damian shook his wrist free and pointed to the offending limb. Dick’s hands traced down his arm and found the chain. He nodded once, before he started to move away. Damian felt the grips of panic.

 

‘Don’t leave me!’

 

‘I won’t,’ his eyes seemed to promise even as he slipped from his grasp.

 

Dick shot to the surface.

 

“JASON! He chained! Do you have bolt cutters? Anything?”

 

“Here!” It wasn’t even a second that passed before Jason, who was laying down on the ground next to the hole, dropped down an underwater torch.

 

Dick bit back a question as to why Jason would possible have that on his person, but he didn’t care at this point for he was already diving back down. Dick was distressed to find Damian was further down than before. With sharp movements, he quickly found the chain again and lit the torch. It took longer than he would have liked but a few minutes later, he was using powerful strokes to bring the now limp body to the surface. They broke it, and Dick coughed a few times. He turned Damian’s face towards him, he slapped it a few times before Damian’s eyes fluttered half open.

 

“Rich-Ard?”

 

“Dami? Oh God, you’re ok—!”

 

“Drake—!”

 

“Tim?” Two voices chorused back at him.

 

“He’s down below. Get him! Richard you have to save him!” Damian cried.

 

The water at this point had reached a foot below the lip of the top. Dick practically threw Damian in to Jason’s awaiting arms before he dove back down, his heart beating wildly. ‘How long had Tim been down there?’

 

 

Jason hauled the limp body of Damian up, once he had him on the ground, he shrugged off his leather jacket and wrapped it around the boy, using his hands to encourage circulation. Damian was trembling like a leaf being blown in a storm. His lips were blue, and his eyes were drooping.

 

“Youu-u-u havvvve too ss-s-s-save ‘im.”

 

“Don’t worry squirt, Dick will get him.”

 

“N-Noo, you-you don’t un-under-stand….”

 

“Save your breath, —“

 

“NO! He-e sacrificed hi-i-i-i-imsss-ss-self—“

 

“Of course he did. He’s a robin.”

 

Damian was shaking his head, trying to get his words to come out but failing.

 

“Come on Dick, where are you?”

 

‘R-r-r-r-r—i-i-i-icchch-ard-d-d——!”

 

“Jay! Grab him, hurry!”

 

Jason was already moving the second he saw the shapes coming towards the surface, his hands grasped Tim under the arm pits and pulled him free of the watery grave. In seconds he had him laying flat, and Jason checked his vitals. He didn’t notice as Dick stumbled beside him, his own chest heaving.

 

“No pulse.”

 

Jason began chest compressions, counting in his head. He continued his ministrations for several minutes, desperation in each thrust.

 

“Don’t you do this replacement, don’t you give up! come on!”

 

“Do-don’t c-ca-all him th-that!” Damian raged.

 

Dick would have smiled at the sudden defense of Damian’s rival but his heart wouldn’t allow him. his mind was already trying to come up with a timeline for how long Tim could have been without air and he didn’t like what the odds.

 

Jason kept the compression up, as his face continued to dark at the lack of a response.

 

“Jay—“

 

“No, dammit. Not again! Not another one.”

 

Jason paused, feeling for a pulse. Tim’s skin was like ice beneath his fingers. He waited with baited breath but he could feel anything.

 

“Dammit—!”

 

He started again, shrugging off Dick’s gentle hand on his shoulder.

 

“Guulllll——!”

 

Jason jerked back as Tim erupted into movement. Water bubbled up and out, he coughed hoarsely.

 

“Tim—!”

 

“Timmy!”

 

“Dr—ake!”

 

Voices chorused around Tim but he just lay there, panting.

 

“Welcome back, little bro.”

 

“D—?”

 

“He’s here, Tim, he’s fine. You-you saved him—“ Dick choked up.

 

“Oh….good…Coo-Could—n’t l-l-l-ose m-m-my li’—bro—“ Tim coughed.

 

Despite the deep chill from the cold night air, warmth seeped through Damian for the first time in awhile. Drake—no—Tim, accepted him.

 

Tim’s eyes fluttered shut, and Damian lunged forward, his fingers finding his pulse point. It was faint but he found it, a sigh escaped him. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the glanced being exchanged between the two beside him.

 

“Self-sacrificing buffoon—“ Damian grumbled, but there was no malice in his words, in fact, Dick would almost say there was a fondness to his words.

Dick had to strain to hear the next words.

 

“You’re stuck wit-th us-s-s, Timothy.”

 

 

—————

 

6/25/19 Rehabilitated Sith

 

AN/ OK this is really what started this whole set of stories, this was the first. I hope it came out OK, I really wanted this one to turn out well.

Hopefully Tim and Damian weren’t too OOC. It was harder than I thought.


	4. Chapter 4: The Bodyguard: Jason II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim tried to out-stubborn Jason.

THE BODYGUARD: Jason II

 

Tim Drake, CEO of Drake Industries blinked once, then twice. When his vision didn’t clear, he tried once more with no change. A small furrow made it’s appearance between his brows as his mind struggled to shift from what he expected to see compared to what he is actually seeing.

 

“Now, Tim.”

 

Bleary, red rimmed eyes shifted from the top of the table to the looming figure behind said table. 

 

“J-Jason?”

 

“That’s it, you’re done. No more tonight. You are going to eat dinner and then you are going to bed.”

 

“I can’t, I need to finish the report on the ca——“

 

“You need to eat, then sleep. In that order.”

 

“You can’t order me around. You’re not my boss,” Tim replied petulantly.

 

“I am your bodyguard, which means it is my job to protect you, even if its from yourself,” Jason growled back, slapping Tim’s lame attempt at regaining the laptop in front of him.

 

“No. You know the rules, no electronics on the table during dinner.”

 

“I don’t see dinner, so—-“

 

Jason used one hand to swipe the laptop off the table while he deftly placed a hot plate of food in its place. A raised eyebrow dared Tim to argue back. He faught hard to keep his lips from twitching when said overworked young CEO slumped in his seat, defeat weighing his shoulders down.

 

“Bon Appetite.”

 

Tim glared at the plate of food, his hand defiantly reaching past the plate to the mug of once steaming coffee only to swipe air when Jason also relieved him of his first love. Clumsily, Tim tried to lunge for it but with Jason’s superior height and position he was easily able to avoid the teen’s attempt.

 

“Jason.” The warning note in Tim’s voice didn’t deter the older man in the slightest, he merely glanced down unrepentantly and replied with a short, “no.”

 

“You’re fired!”

 

“Nice try, babybird, but since you are not my employer, you do not have the power to fire me.”

 

Tim grumbled under his breath mutinously as he folded his arms in stubbornness.

 

“And, if you do not start eating the food I have so graciously cook for you, I am not above force feeding you,” he threatened as he set the laptop on the tallest bookcase well out of reach of the height challenged CEO then poured the coffee down the drain.

 

Tim made no move to acquiesce.

 

Jason waited. 

 

Tim glared at the table, arms folded over his chest; his chest barely clearing the top of the table as he remained slumped in his seat.

 

Jason glared.

 

Tim jutted his chin out and looked away, not meeting his eyes.

 

Jason narrowed his eyes, this wasn’t the first battle he has ever had to waged against the not-even-legal-age CEO. He turns towards the counter, and with deliberate and slow movements he reaches for the coffee pot. Tim tenses. Jason lifts it from it’s holder and holds it over the sink. Tim worries his bottom lip, glancing from the pot to Jason down to the plate then back to the pot. With new determination, Tim bites his bottom lip. Jason tilts the pot into a downward position and let’s the dark drink drain into the sink. 

 

With each passing second Tim’s shoulder tense a little more. As the liquid reaches the end of its life, the teen closes his eyes as if in agony and his lips move in what Jason snarkily internalizes as a prayer for forgiveness. The dull thud of an empty pot signals the end. Tim takes a shaky breath before he opens his eyes, fire still in them.

 

“You made an error in your calculations, Jason. You now have no leverage over me.”

 

“Oh? I guess your genius IQ is starting to fail you; must be the lack of caffeine,” he snips back.

 

Tim watches in confusion as Jason pulls out the sleek phone from his pocket. Jason holds down a single finger before switching it to speaker phone as it begins to ring.

 

“Wayne Residence,” the proper tone of a well-known British voice echoes in the room.

 

Whatever coloring Tim had, he lost as he recognize the voice immediately. He shot up in his seat, his hands already in the air making frantic gestures as Jason just grins down at him wolfishly.

 

“Hey Al,” Jason lilts back.

 

“Master Jason! It is good to hear from you, I trust Master Timothy isn’t giving you any grief?”

 

“About that, see, I have Tim here and I have made a delicious dinner but he seems to prefer not to take his evening meal...”

 

“Alfred, I can explain, see——“

 

In a rare break of protocol, Alfred interrupts whatever it was Tim was about to say in protest.

 

“Do you mean to tell me, that all of your hard efforts are not being appreciated, Master Jason?”

 

“I am feeling quite beside myself, Alfie. I made one of his favorite dishes too.”

 

“I find this very difficult to swallow, Master Jason. The young master I remember from his visits was quite conscientious, very well-manner indeed.”

 

“Actually Alfred, I would love to have started in on dinner, I was merely waiting for my drink,” Tim lied, “before I dived in.”

 

“Master Jason! You neglected to give him his drink?”

 

“Oh, well, Alfie, you are right. How neglectful of me. I guess I forgot. Thank you for reminding me.”

 

Jason was starring at Tim the whole while he said it, his voice as fake as Tim’s lie.

 

“Well, I guess I shall have to let it pass this one time; do try to remember next time.”

 

“I will, thank you Alfie.”

 

“Take care, Masters Jason, Tim. Incidentally when will we see you at the manor next?”

 

Tim glanced away, his shoulders rounding in a rare show of discomfort. Jason turns his back on him as he finishes his conversation, promising to come by as soon as time permits. With a self-satisfied smirk Jason turns his attention back to Tim who has already started to nibble on his food; his appetite clearly not in compliance with Jason’s expectations.

 

“I guess I’ll get started on that drink.”

 

“Coffee...?”

 

“Nice try, but no. You need to sleep Tim, you are already on less sleep than normal.”

 

The CEO sighed in response, “I know, it’s just that this merger between Drake Industries and Wayne Enterprises is not going as smoothly as planned. The FTC is involved and I know Luthor Corp. has already file protests—-“

 

“Tim. Relax. Do you honestly think Bruce is going to let Lex Luthor dictate what he can or can not do?”

 

“No, but—-“

 

“Ah ah ah, you know the rules, no butts—-“

 

“That’s cigarette butts Jason and you know it.”

 

“Semantics,” Jason waved off the retort like one would shoo a fly.

 

There was a few minutes of relative silence as Tim turned his focus to his plate, forcing himself to eat a few bites while Jason prepared his promised drink. With his plate halfway cleaned, Tim pushes it away, one hand going down to rub his stomach as it gurgles happily at him. The soft chink as a cup is place in front of him causes him to glance up to see Jason watching him closely. Sighing, Tim reaches for the cup as Jason grabs the nearest chair and straddles it so that his arms are resting on the back of it.

 

“You gotta learn to relax kid, or you’ll work yourself into an early grave from stress or at least make your hair gray.”

 

“Is that what happened to you?” Tim retorted.

 

Jason’s hand went reflexively to his locks of shockingly white hair in front. He caught himself, and forced his motions to lazily return to the chair.

 

“Exactly, I worked myself into quite a frenzy when I was younger and this is the results. Don’t be like me kid, be better.”

 

Tim took a cautious sip of the steaming liquid before he replied.

 

“I dunno, you turned out OK.”

 

Tim flushes as he realized that he had actually said it out loud.

 

“Well, I was lucky that I had Bruce and Dick.”

 

Tim nodded mutely, his mind casting back to his own family. He cradles his cup of tea in his hands, his eyes watching the lazy whisper of steam that drift upwards. ‘I wonder what that must have been like.’ His own childhood wasn’t particularly bad, it was just very lonely. With a nearly inaudible sigh, Tim takes a long drink of his cooling tea. 

 

Jason just watches him, a sigh of his own on his lips. ‘I can’t believe I ever thought this kid as arrogant,’ he mentally lamented. His mind cast back to when Bruce had first approached him with the job request, he had scoffed and raged at the thought of curtailing it to some rich kid, wanna-be CEO. He had let his prejudice color his perception of the kid for awhile before he got to really understand him. Then he had asked for the dossier that Bruce had on him. The information had confirmed what he had already suspected. Tim was not who he thought he was. For one, he completely lack any self-preservation. Jason fought a smirk when he remembered the last time he tried to wean the kid off of his coffee addiction...

 

The sound of a cup clattering jarred him back to the present enough to catch the cup before it fell over the edge of the table while simultaneously catching a listing Tim. Nudging the cup further onto the table, he swooped down to brace Tim up until he could get a better grip on the kid. With the large height difference, he can’t support him with an arm over the shoulder, so he shifts him onto his back. 

 

“Cheater,” Tim’s muffled voice tickled the back of Jason’s neck as he repositioned him more comfortably. 

 

“One Alfred Special always does the trick.”

 

Jason makes the quick journey to Tim’s quarters, easily sliding him off of his back and onto his large bed; taking the time to secure the blankets around him. A quick inspection verifies that the privacy curtains are in place before he backs out and heads towards his own quarters on the other side of the spacious shared living room. Another sweep confirms that the security systems are in place before he wipes down the kitchen and puts the dishes away. A quick flick of the flicker and the lights dim to their minimum setting, allowing Jason to still navigate the space to his own area. A soft click announces the closing of Jason’s door.

 

——-

 

6/19/19 Rehabilitated Sith

 

I had actually planned to do an assassination attempt but this felt like a natural stopping point. So, if you liked this idea, let me know and I may do a follow up piece with Jason-the-Bodyguard. 

 

In case you didn’t catch it, in this world Tim never became Robin and Jason never died; he came close but he survived the blast.

 

-______________-

 


	5. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin learns something about Red Robin.

——-// ———-//

 

CONTROL

 

Damian Wayne, only blood son to billionaire Bruce Wayne, sat in the chair facing the computer console deep within the bowels of Wayne Manor. Currently still dressed in his vigilante uniform of Robin, he tapped away at the computer keyboard as he entered in his report of the night’s events. He had only been at it for less than a half an hour when the rumblings of a motorcycle echoed through the cavernous space. It only took a few moments to identify the rider based off of the sounds of the bike. Knowing who it was, Damian didn’t bother to acknowledge his Father’s adopted son, Tim Drake, currently wearing his uniform persona of Red Robin. 

 

With the bike’s shut down, the only sounds in the cave were the clacking of the keys by Robin’s hands as Red Robin silently made his way up from the parking area. Robin glanced up from his writing to check the reflection of Red Robin’s progress.

 

“Must you inflict your presence here so soon after your disgraceful performance? It escapes me why Father persists in allowing you to haunt the Manor——“

 

It was instinct that saved Robin in that moment. The slightly blur in his peripheral had him ducking to the left and tucking into a roll as he fled the chair. The sound of metal against the computer desk rang in Robin’s ear. He pulled up into a crouched position, his eyes taking in Red Robin’s already moving figure. One moment he had his bo crashing against the console, the next he was surging forward toward Robin.

 

“Have you finally taken leave of your senses, Drake?”

 

The only answer was another strike of the staff towards the younger vigilante, who rolled forward within striking distance. Robin’s leg lashed out connecting solidly with Red Robin’s wrist, the sickening crack of his bone snapping echoed in the cave. Robin grinned in response, success riding high. In the same moment, Red Robin’s hand grabbed Robin’s ankle and he twisted it cruelly. Robin twisted with the motion, saving his own bones from damage. He landed with a hard thud, the wind knocked from his lungs.

 

Robin stared up at the other vigilante in disbelief as the he continued to attack, despite his injured limb. He paused too long, allowing Red Robin to continue his assault as he stomped down on Robin’s exposed chest. Pain exploded throughout his body, stars exploding in his vision as it became nearly impossible to take in air. His breath rasped in his chest as he was barely able to rasp, “Drake—-“

 

Blank eyes stared relentlessly back down at the boy as Red Robin ground his heel harder against his sternum, bones grated against each other at the pressure.

 

“Hu ukkk——“

 

Robin grunt of pain coughed the briefest of reprieve as Red Robin’s foot eased off of his chest enough that he was able to make his move. Robin used the older vigilante’s move against him as he grasped with both hands his foot and twisted it without mercy. Logically Robin knew that the damage to his knee would be painful but when Red Robin only went down without a sound, he knew something was wrong besides the obvious but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as he was upon him again in another moment. Red Robin rolled to his knees and lunged, throwing his full weight against the smaller boy. Robin tried to dodge but the pain in his chest slowed him down enough so that she was able to get enough space between them. He went down with Red Robin’s hands around his throat, squeezing the air from his already starved lungs.

 

Robin didn’t waste time attempting to break the hold, instead he fought to land a blow against Red Robin. A palm strike lands, knocking Red Robin’s face to the side, the blow doesn’t faze him, his hands just tighten in response. Robin’s fingers are scrambling for any purchase as his vision starts to blur, his mouth gasps futilely for air. As if underwater Robin could vaguely hear someone else in the cave, yelling.

 

The next instance, the feeling of the slender yet strong fingers were gone from his neck and he was able to suck in air despite the rawness of his throat.

 

“Robin! Can you hear me?!” Normally this would be the point where Robin battered away the concerned hands of the eldest vigilante, beside his Father, but he could barely catch his breath as his attention was focused on the sounds of fighting near by. He could just barely make out the red streak of Red Hood’s helmet as he traded blows with Red Robin. Even from the distance, Robin could see that while Hood was able to land harder blows, Red Robin was able to land more of them.

 

He blinked in surprise as Red Hood was knocked back, cruses exploded in a mechanical voice. Then Red Robin was moving back towards where Nightwing and Robin were. Nightwing immediately placed himself between the two, his hands out in a placating manner.

 

“Tim, I don’t know what happened but——-“

 

Red Robin didn’t answer with words, his fists lashed out and it was all that Nightwing could do to keep him position between the two Robins. Red Hood rejoined the fight as he tackled Red Robin, using his considerable weight to force the younger boy down.

 

“Nightwing, there’s something wrong with Red Robin—-“ Robin began.

 

“Ya think ——?” Red Hood’s grunted.

 

“I broke his wrist earlier but it did not factor into his fighting. It was as if he didn’t even feel the injury,” Robin reported.

 

Nightwing glanced down at the struggling boy, who was using both hands without prejudice, landing several blows. His brow furrowed in concern, as he glanced between the two. He had just returned his attention to Robin when he noted the boy’s sudden stiffening.

 

“Hood—!”

 

Nightwin’s attention whipped back towards the other two in time to see Red Robin’s hands lash out, he had somehow gotten both hands free again and had removed Red Hood’s helmet. Jason’s face was one of surprise, before a scream ripped from his throat. The cracking energy of his chest plate surged, turning on its owner as Red Robin freed himself.

 

“How—?”

 

Nightwing recognized the danger, and pushed Robin back before he met the charging young boy. It was pure instinct that Nightwing relied on as he batted away at Red Robin’s many hits, and even then he was not spared from taking several that would without a doubt leave bruising. A kick forced its way through his defenses and sent him careening backwards just as a blur passed him. When he rolled to a stop, he saw that Red Robin had caught a thrown blade but not before it had scraped a gash along side his cheekbone and through his mask. 

 

The attack seemed to have caused the younger vigilante to pause, as his mask peeled downward and revealed one eye. Nightwing gasped. Where should be an intelligent blue was glowing golden eye. Red Robin used the newly acquired blade to slice off half of the mask in a swift but unclean motion. The half mask fluttered to the ground. Forgotten.He readjusted his grip on the blade and lunged forward towards the frozen Robin, still laying on the ground.Red Hood left abandoned, twitching on the ground with soft whips of smoke emanating from his form.

 

Nightwing threw himself forward, able to grab Red Robin as he passed and used his longer limbs to trap him. He tried to readjust his own position for a better hold but it allowed Red Robin to move. Pain sliced through Nightwing’s thigh causing him to reflexively grab at the wound. Blood blossomed up over his hand and down his leg in a worrying amount. His leg collapsed beneath him even as he put more pressure on the wound. He heard Robin’s voice as he cried out. He gritted his teeth, he needed to apply a tourniquet. As his own grip started to falter, another hand replaced him tapping down more firmly on the wound. 

 

Nightwing glanced up to see Jason’s worried brow, sweat dotting his temples as he swore under his breath. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that Robin was still holding his own, despite the fact that they were drawing closer to the edge of the upper deck.

 

“When this is all over, Red and I are going to have words about him messing with my tech.”

 

Nightwing tried not to notice the tremble in Jason’s hands, residue from his near electrocution. His gaze returned to the now fighting Robins.

 

“We-we need to stop hi-him before he does—something he’ll regret—!”

 

“But how? He is moving beyond his own physical capabilities.”

 

“We need to take him down. Is Cass near? We need to also shut down the cave so Agent A doesn’t come down and get caught in it.”

 

“I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that. Red already shut the cave down that’s probably why Cass isn’t here yet. She has to come the long way in.”

 

“I don’t know how much longer we can hold out.”

 

“Aghhh-!”

 

Both men’s head turned as one to see Red Robin leaning over Robin, his limbs perfectly positioned to prevent Robin from being able to move. 

 

“Jay—!”

 

Red Hood tied off the tourniquet and was gone before Nightwing could finish.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

Robin heaved himself to his feet, his hand already seeking out one of his hidden blades. He saw his opportunity when Nightwing was kicked out of the way. With the flick of his wrist, he saw the blade flying straight and true. Red Robin didn’t try to evade the blade, didn’t turn his head, didn’t try to deflect it. His hand moved just a second too late, he caught the blade but not before part of his mask was cut through it allowing Robin to see his now unobstructed eye. 

 

Robin drew in a sharp breath. He nodded once, then readied himself. Red Robin was fast, he was already within striking range when Robin lashed out. For every punch, kick and throw attempt Red Robin had a block or counter. The exertion was starting to wear on Robin, his stamina already low from the night’s previous activities. With Nightwing and Red Hood occupied with controlling the bleeding of Nightwing’s thigh, Robin knew he had to hold out a little longer. His slipping attention was his downfall.

 

Red Robin hooked a foot around Robin’s ankle and pushed him off balance. They both went down, with Red Robin on top. Robin grunted as his head connected solidly with the ground while his limbs were trapped by the older boy’s own limbs. He barely had time to process his new predicament when a scream tore from his own throat. Pain radiating from him hand, as he became aware of the blade currently plunged through it and into the ground. He glanced from the blade to Red Robin perched on top of him. He stared into the golden eye that return the gaze emotionlessly.

 

Robin’s back arched as the blade piercing through his hand was twisted; his head slammed against the ground as he tried to reign in his emotions. He glared up into the stoic face of his rival. He panted as pain twisted in his gut. He refused to look away from the golden eye. That’s when he noticed it. Something in that eye was changing, ever so slightly, so quickly Robin almost missed it. There seemed to be a flickering. The gold seemed to fade back to their natural blue before regaining in color, not unlike a light fixture who bulb was going out. 

 

Robin opened his mouth to report his findings to Nightwing and Red Hood who were still several feet away, when a fist crashed against his face. He lay there stunned, his mind struggling to reorient itself. Another fist crashed against the opposite side of his face. Robin was not proud to admit that a moan escaped his lips. He lay there, unmoving. Just existing. He didn’t know how long he was there for, but the next sensation that registered was the soft patter of water on his cheek, before sliding down. Confused, he forced his eyes open as much as he could, and frowned. Red Robin still bore his weight down but for the briefest of moments, his eye had returned to their blue. It was a different blue from Richard, from Father and Jason’s more blue green. It was Drake’s blue.

 

It took another moment to identify the water as something salty in nature, tears, his addled brain supplied. A thin trail of tears were escaping the blue eye before they flickered back to their flat gold. Robin’s breathless state wasn’t completely attributed to the abuse his body had sustained. He opened his mouth to say something when Red Robin moved again. The weight was off of his body, the blade pulled from his hand and suddenly his own body was off the ground. Sometime between blinks, Red Robin had rolled off of him and pulled him up to become a shield between himself and Red Hood. Distantly, Robin recognized the sounds of batts screeching in the distance. A warning.

 

Robin could feel the blade take new residence against his throat, resting against it. He could feel thin scratches and the barest trickle of blood snaking its way down his throat. Red Hood skidded to a stop, his hands clenching into fists at this new showdown. Robin could feel the tips of his boots scrapping against stone as Red Robin shuffled backwards, closer to the edge of the top floor of the cave.He could feel his body becoming heavier as his own consciousness wavered. He was slumping backwards against the older vigilante, his neck coming to rest quite dangerously close to the already bloodied blade. With his eyes barely open to slits, he could only barely see Nightwing struggling to his feet about ten feet behind Red Hood.

 

“Let the kid go, Red.”

 

Robin, despite his fatigued state, sensed a change in the air. He couldn’t pin point the reason behind it but he felt like Hood and Nightwing both had relaxed ever so slightly. A second later it all fell apart. Between breaths, a shadow had dropped beside them, a hand flashing out hitting a sensitive spot that caused the blade to drop harmlessly from Robin’s neck. A familiar hand spun Robin away from his captor and into Red Hood’s awaiting hands. There was a flash of color and then it was silent.

 

“RED—!!”

 

Robin stared uncomprehending as Cass’ hands flew to her mouth, agony radiating from her whole person. Nightwing had blurred past them, throwing himself off of the ledge. Red Robin was nowhere in sight. A soft thunk of a grapple attaching itself above helped to ease Red Hood’s racing heart.

 

Robin struggled with his thoughts.

 

“Wha—?!”

 

“Damn that Red! Cass prep the med bay, we need to unlock the cave. We need Alfred and where the hell is Batman?!”

 

“I-I don’t understand—?”

 

Red Hood only spared the boy a glance down, as he carried him to one of the waiting beds.

 

“Where’s Nightwing? Drake—?”

 

Red Hood sighed as he laid the smaller child down, weariness in his movements. He prepped the saline line and inserted the needle. He worked quickly and without comment, only a slightly tremor in his hands belaying his emotional state. 

 

“Red and Nightwing went over the edge.”

 

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

Nightwing saw what was going to happen in the seconds before it did. He had known Cass was going to get Robin away, he had seen her and they had silently communicated. He had himself ready. He had seen the jerkiness of Red Robin’s movements. He knew that if given the chance, Red would take himself out of the equation. He had seen the signs that Red was fighting, and he knew he would win.

 

Nightwing ignored the pain in his leg, ignored his own exhaustion both physical and emotional. He pushed it all away as he focused on his target. He saw Cass clear Robin just as he reached out for Red Robin who was already backing off the edge. It wasn’t the first time Red Robin had made the sacrifice play, and he counted on Dick being there to catch him. Dick knew that he had seconds to make it before it all went wrong.

 

Red Robin’s angle wasn’t perfect, as such his body hit an outcropping before Nightwing was able to snag his arm. Pulling the still body to his own, he used his grapple to secure a line and grunted as the sudden stop pulled his arm and shoulder painfully. They hung from the line for several moments, just swaying form the momentum. Nightwing carefully adjusted his hold to be more secure, breathing heavily. He let his cheek rest against Red Robin’s head, his eyes closed as his mind whirled at all the possibilities they had narrowly avoided. He allowed himself another precious few seconds, before he set the grapple to wind upwards. 

 

As they reached the edge, hands were there to help them both over. Red Hood took Red Robin’s still form carefully and with the least amount of jarring as possible, and led them both over to the cots where Robin was already dozing on. Someone must have removed the lockdown controls as Alfred was already there and ready to receive them both. Nightwing waved Alfred off, and maneuvered himself onto a cot and laid down; keeping Red Robin and Robin both within his sight.

 

“We were lucky today,” Nightwing breathed out.

 

Robin stirred, “Lucky? We defeated Red Robin, as I knew we would.”

 

“No. He let us. He was fighting whatever magic it was. If he didn’t, it would have been much worse.”

 

Robin started to protest but Red Hood broke in, “damn lucky.”

 

“He could have sliced into my artery, but he didn’t; he could have left Jay’s helmet on and the electricity would have activated the bomb in it. He could have slit your throat but he didn’t. He didn’t do any of that. He gave us the time to stall until Cass could get here. Then he tried to take himself out.”

 

“Self-sacrificing idiot,” Hood growled.

 

“But when we would fight—“ Robin protested.

 

“He never went full out. He always held back,” Nightwing murmured. 

 

“He doesn’t hurt family.”

 

“He’s also crafty, he prefers to be underestimated,” Hood supplies.

 

Robin just stares at the nearly broken body of his rival. His mind whirling. 

 

“We were lucky,” he echoed.

 

 

——————

 

Rehabilitated Sith, 7/19/19

 

So, this was something I wanted to expand upon. Something to show Robin start to reevaluate what he thought he knew of Red Robin—Tim Drake…how did I do? Was the fighting confusing?

 

Please let me know What you think


	6. Alarming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian must protect Drake from Intruders when he becomes the first causality...

Alarming

 

Damian Wayne, current Robin to Batman, approached the grandfather clock within his Father’s study. With a grumble under his breath, he stood on his toes as he stretched to reach the face of the clock and maneuver the hands into the position. With a soft click, the entire clock moved to reveal a darkened doorway leading down to stairs. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he stalks forward with a scowl firmly in place.

 

‘I am not some messenger boy. They all claim Drake is so smart, and yet the buffoon can’t even take care of himself.If Drake isn’t smart enough to keep track of time and come for dinner, he should starve. If Todd wants Drake to eat, he should get him himself.’

 

“DRAKE!” Damian calls out before he is even halfway down the winding stairs. There is no answering call back much to his annoyance. All he hears is the chattering of bats as they mock him, staring down at his human form. Damian ignores their taunts. 

 

“DRAKE, I DEMAND YOU ANSWER ME! DRAKE!”

 

Bats titter above him. 

 

As Damian comes into view of the bank of computer monitors, his foot freezes on the last step. His eyes sweep the area, taking in as many details as he could process. Splayed out on the floor is the body of the previous Robin. The monitors’ light illuminates a puddle of liquid that is formed around his head. Damian slinks off to the side, his form blending into the shadows as his eyes rake the ground looking for any sign of tampering or disturbance. His fingers quickly dove into his huddle pocket within his hooded sweatshirt and removed a green domino. Once secured, he also flipped his hood up for good measure. After a few long moments and no movement detected, he slowly made his way to the computer with slow and sure steps. 

 

With one hand, Damian hit a few key strokes and immediately the lights flickered from their regular brilliance to intruder detection mode. Bending down, his eyes still sweeping the area, he used his fingers to check for a pulse. Slowing his own breathing, Damian focused on the pulse point for a moment before he nodded in assurance as a thread pulse beneath his fingers. 

 

Softly, Damian whispered, “Drake, can you hear me?”

 

He felt a slight twitch beneath his touch and waited a few moments but when nothing else happened he concluded that Drake was going to be out of commission for the foreseeable future. 

 

“Of course you would allow yourself to be attached in the most indefensible position within the cave; and without even a domino on. You have probably just exposed us all.”

 

With deliberate movements, Damian inched the computer chair into position so that it covered Tim’s form at least a little bit while he remained crouched with his muscles ready to make his move. ‘How did our adversaries know this would be the optimal moment to attack? Did they somehow discover that Father and Alfred would be out of the country and the cave’s defenses would be lowered by an inflated sense of security due to Drake’s confidence in technology? Did they plan to attack while Richard is not here? Had they known when we take our meals and planned to enter without resistance but Drake’s poor habits actually foiled a perfect infiltration? Where the hell is Todd? Did he ignore the alarm?

 

“Brat, what the situation?”

 

Damian was proud to say he did not outwardly react to the stealthy appearance of Jason Todd, formerly the second Robin, once dead and now back to torment the current Robin’s very existence. Despite the order, Damian complied.

 

“When I came down, I found Drake already unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. I have not ascertained the location of the enemy combatants and if there is a single person or multiple persons.”

 

“Got it. Stay here and defend Tim while I search the cave.”

 

“That is an inefficient tactic. The cave is far too large, they could be hiding in any number of tunnels—“

 

“That is true but if they make it past me, you are the only one that will be able to stop them from entering the main house and keep them from finishing Tim off. Do not argue with me. Dick should already be on his way and once he arrives send him to the west tunnels. Make sure he has a comm on him, and put one in too.”

 

“Very well.”

 

With a sharp nod of acknowledgment, Jason made a show of putting in his comm before he slinked off into the shadows, a gun in each hand, domino already in place.

 

“This is typical, I must choose the lesser position in order to compensate for your poor life choices.” 

 

Keeping his senses in tune with his surroundings, Damian shredded the bottom of Drake’s hem to create several wrappings in order to secure the bandages on his head. The sound of rocks skittering across the cave floor had his head snapping in that direction but he retained no visual of what caused the disturbance. The air was oddly silent, as if the whole cave held its breath. 

 

The rhythmic sounds of dripping from stalactites became Damian’s clock. He kept strict count of each of Todd’s communications and the lag time in between. It was after his third such communication that Drake gave his first stirrings of consciousness. It was the twitching of his fingers that grabbed Damian’s attention first. Following by a pathetic mewling, like a kitten. 

 

“Drake—!” Damian whispered.

 

“Nuggghh—-“

 

“Tt, you are even more incomprehensible than normal.”

 

Drake then made the ill advised attempt at lifting said injured head, at which time his consciousness failed him once again and he returned to his silent unconsciousness. 

 

“Damn. Of course he couldn’t wait to give his report before passing out. Useless.”

 

“All clear in this sector. Are you sure there is someone here?”

 

“It is feasible that the guilty party already made their escape.”

 

“Is he almost here? Could use his help scouring this cavern.”

 

Damian froze, something moved to the left of his position. Something was climbing up from the lower sections. 

 

“There’s someone here. Ten yards to my left. Hurry.”

 

He heard Todd curse in his ear as he readied his blades. With deliberate movements, he slunk back against the console of the computer bank, using his smaller stature to his advantage. He waited for the figure to be within range. A head cautiously popped over the edge, just enough for their eyes to clear the edge. Their movements were stealthy and barely perceptible except to a trained Bat. 

 

Damian’s muscles were coiled, ready to move at a moments notice. It only lasted another few moments before the figured seemed to deem the area clear before they started to crest and pull themself up completely all the while tucking into a neat roll. Damian caught himself in time as he recognized those movements. 

 

“Richard!”

 

“What’s the sit rep, Lil D?”

 

Quickly Damian gave him the run down of what he knew, motioning to the still form of Drake. Immediately Richard made his way over to Drake, his hands running their check despite Damian’s assurances of his continued living. The exam was brief yet thorough. Damian heard Richard’s sigh of relief as he confirmed what the current Robin knew.

 

“Ok. Keep an eye out.”

 

Richard turned his back to Damian as his fingers danced across the keyboard, waking the computer up. He flitted through several different windows with ease.

 

“So, as far as you know, you haven’t seen any intruders?”

 

“As I have said before, no.”

 

“—-Do you read?”

 

Damian acknowledged the voice in his ear, as Richard also heard Todd’s call.

 

“False alarm, Todd. Richard has finally made his appearance. Still a negative on the intruders.”

 

“Dam—-“

 

Damian and Richard both heard the echo as Todd skidded to a stop beside them, his chest heaving from his dash across the cave. 

 

“I take it neither of you bothered to check the security vids?”

 

Damian and Todd glanced towards each other before looking away.

 

“I didn’t think so, if you had, you would have seen that there was no intruders.”

 

“What do you mean, Richard? Clearly Drake was attacked. He didn’t just knock himself out.”

 

Richard chuckled, “Actually, that’s exactly what he did.”

 

“What?!” Todd exclaimed.

 

“I’ve seen this before. Freaked me out too. He fell asleep and hit his head on the way down which caused him to also fall out of his chair.”

 

Both Damian and Todd looked down at the unconscious form, incredulity on their faces.

 

“You’ll notice that the gash is on the frontal area of his forehead. So unless someone snuck up on him, and somehow hit him from the front....”

 

“Sonofa——“

 

“Tt.”

 

“Alright, let’s get him upsta—-hey! Dami, Jason! Where are you going? Guys—-“

 

 

—-

A/N: Just a little quickie about overreactions from the BatFam. :-P

Rehabilitated Sith 8/6/19

 

I feel about, ‘eh’ with this one.

Did it amuse you even a little?


	7. TRUST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is in over his head when he finds himself with a de-aged Damian.  
> Part 1

TRUST

 

“This NEVER would have happened if Batman or Nightwing had been here. Oh my gosh, they’re going to kill me. Literally kill me. OK, think Drake, think!”

 

It is usually quite hard to think when there is a baby screaming its lungs out right by you. It is also quite hard to think when your younger brother (legally) was one moment fighting beside you and the next was a screaming red faced baby, currently drowning in their uniform. 

 

“Ok, just pick him up right? What’s the worse he can do? He’s a baby....a tiny, evil, ninja assassin-trained baby. His hands are too small for his knives, right? I should probably check.”

 

Red Robin verified that the coast was clear and they were in no imminent danger before he approached the angry ball of tears. Sinking down to one knee, he reached his hand out, only slightly trembling thank you very much. Robin, although he isn’t currently wearing his uniform nor mask, screeched in earnest as he drew closer. Biting his lip, Red Robin gently cupped his hand and allowed it to rest on the small head. Robin tossed his head around, furiously attempting to throw off the heavy hand and leaned away going so far as to topple over once unbalanced.

 

Red Robin lunged forward and caught the child before he hit the ground, and pulled him to his chest. Little arms flailed and tried to beat against his armored chest. 

 

“Easy Ro-Damian, easy. I got you, and while that may not be the most comforting thing to you, it is a promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Damian didn’t calm down at his attempt at being soothing. His fists clamped down on Red Robin’s and he pull frantically at his glove. 

 

“OK, ok!”

 

Using his teeth, Red Robin pulled off the free hand’s glove and slipped it into a pouch before he used the now bare hand to cup Damian’s head. The effect was almost instantaneous. Like a cat, the small child was butting his head against the callous hand of Red Robin. Shifting the baby into the other arm, Red Robin was quick to remove the other glove and store it with the other. Damian was still shifting in his arms but the flailing and wailing was cooling down to just soft whimpers.

 

“OK, you don’t like the gloves..? So maybe...” Red Robin cast his mind back to his classes he went to when Steph was pregnant. With careful movements, he adjusted his uniform to unzip the front down to his belly button, grateful that he wore his undershirt for the cool air. With small movements he he shifted Damian into the center of his chest, securing him with one hand, he unclasped his cape. It took several long minutes but he was able to fasten a sling of sorts that immobilized Damian to his chest. At last, the boy who was Robin settled contently into his new position with a soft sigh. 

 

Red Robin froze, ‘is this really happening?’

 

Damian buried his head into Red Robin’s chest, a soft snuffle escaping his parted lips. Something warm swirled in Red Robin’s stomach at the sound, and his hands cupped the still form protectively. 

 

“OK, ok. Batman and Nightwing are off-world; Alfred is in Europe, Cass is in Hong Kong....that leaves me, Damian and Red Hood. So, back to base.”

 

With careful movements Red Robin collected Robin’s uniform, before he grappled back to base, one hand cupping the child the whole time.

 

“Oracle, do you copy?”

 

“Go ahead Red.”

 

“Uh, I have a situation.”

 

“Status?”

 

“Returning to base, unharmed at least for me; as for Robin, there was an incident—“

 

“Stats?”

 

“Healthy and about.....8 months old?”

 

“Say again, Red; you apparently cut out.”

 

“Robin was de-aged——turned into a baby?”

 

“Is that a statement or a question.”

 

“Statement, although exact age is unknown.”

 

“.....Did Hood put you up to this?”

 

“Negative. This is serious.”

 

“Wh-what are you going to do?”

 

“I-I don’t know!”

 

“I’ll procure you some supplies in the meantime and get those over, he’s going to need to eat soon.”

 

“Oh my God, eat and then crap. That means diapers....He’s going to kill me,” Red Robin whispered brokenly.

 

Oracle’s tinny laugh in his ear was not reassuring, not in the least. Red Robin tried not to let the rising panic be reflected in his movements as he landed on the roof of his current residence. While he was disabling his security system, Oracle was reporting her deleting of any footage of the night’s events from the public view while simultaneously leaving a copy in her file in case they are needed to return Damian to his normal self.

 

Some of the stress of the night melted away once they were both safely ensconced in Red Robin’s base. A flick of his fingers brought his lights up to halfway point; enough so he could see but not enough to disturb the peaceful baby in his arms. Taking a few deep breaths, Red Robin started the tedious task of disrobing while trying not to jostle the content baby. It took far longer than normal to strip down to his shirt and compression shorts with only minimal protests from Damian. 

 

“Ok, ok. Um, how about we just lay down, yeah?”

 

The newly disrobed Red Robin, attempted to slip the child from his current placement and down to the bed. The effect was immediate. Damian’s face screwed up at the sudden loss of comfort and warmth; it started with a furrow of brows, a quivering lip to an explosive scream. 

 

 

“Ah, ah....no no no, wait, come on kid..—“

 

Frantically Tim Drake picked the baby back up and cradled him to his chest but it didn’t help. The little baby was letting his displeasure known in no uncertain terms. Making a decision, Tim set Damian down on the center of the bed, he pulled his shirt off; then quickly brought Damian back to his chest. He sat on the edge of the bed until he shuffled his way awkwardly to the center of the bed and lay down. One arm cradling Damian to his chest, while the other hand rubbed a slow circle on his back. 

 

The sobs turned to sniffles, and quieted to hiccups as the baby attempted to regain his composure.Tim continued his ministrations as he whispered nonsensical words to his now literal baby brother. Within a few minutes Damian had snuggled down deep, his breathing had evened out and Tim sighed in relief. The warm weight of the baby currently resting on his chest was calming, Tim knew he should keep himself alert for dangers and for the incoming supply run but as their breaths synchronized he couldn’t withstand the pull of sleep any longer.

 

 

-.-.-.-.-.-

 

 

“Oh my gosh.”

 

Time felt himself resurfacing from his first real healing sleep, he could feel the heaviness of his limbs, the warmth of the child on his chest and the lazy smile on his lips. Then his bran registered another presence, most likely the one that woke him up and his brain kicked into high gear. Eyes snapping open, they immediately sought out the intruder as his hands and arms tightened reflexive around Damian who was still oblivious to the possible danger. The moment his eyes found their target, he relaxed as the cooing face of Stephanie approached.

 

“I have to say, I didn’t believe Babs when she radioed me in but…wow. Look at him. He is so cute! I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth but—just—wow.”

 

“No one is more surprised than me, Steph.”

 

“I guess those Lamaze classes paid off in the end, eh?”

 

Tim saw the moment the memories drifted across her face, the pinch of lips and eyes. The slight sheen as she rapidly blinked back tears. He reached out his hand along the bed and she meet him halfway, squeezing his hand. Her lips trembled ever so slightly but Tim knew her, and he used the thumb in their intwined hands to rub circles in the space between her thumb and index fingers. Steph found solace in Tim’s quiet strength, her emotions eases to a more bearable level.

 

“Do…do you think he’d let me hold him?” 

 

“Uh,” Tim flushed as he fumbled with an answer. “He really didn’t like being held unless he is against bare flesh.”

 

Stephanie didn’t even hesitate, releasing Tim’s hand she pulled her t-shirt off and made grabby hands towards the sleeping child. Tim just chuckled, and motioned with his head.

 

“It’s easier if you are laying down. Here, I’ll scoot over and you can take my place.”

 

“You just wanted to get me in your bed.”

 

“Wow, how long have you been holding onto that one?”

 

“That would be telling, bird boy.”

 

Tim just scoffed at her as he wiggled his way from the center of the bed to allow Steph to move into the already heated spot, despite that Tim runs cooler in body tempt then most other guys. Once she was hunkered down, she held out her arms and Tim made the transfer as quickly yet gently as he could. 

 

“He might not like the feel of your bra against his skin…”

 

“Nice try, Tim.”

 

“Just saying—“

 

They both froze as Damian lifted his head up, rubbing his head against her chest, snuffling. They both released a sigh as Damian snuggled back down, apparently content in Stephanie’s arms.

 

“Wow. This—I—.”

 

Tim just smiled knowingly as he rooted around for a shirt. Finding an acceptable one, he pulled it over his head and went to look at the supplies she had left on the table in the kitchen.

 

“Hey, is that Hood’s—?”

 

“‘Ask me no questions, and I shall tell you no lies’.”

 

Steph just sniggered at Tim’s retreating back. He ignored her as he routed around in the bag pulling out diapers, wipes, baby powder, formula, baby food, fresh soft fruits for self feeding, clothes, blanket and several other necessities.

 

“Ok, good news, as usual Babs had all the bases covered we have——“

 

Tim was walking back into his room when he saw Stephanie out of bed and holding a wiggling, giggling Damian away from her.

 

“He ruined the moment.”

 

“—How?”

 

“He peed on me.”

 

Tim sniggered at her, Damian joined in the laughter with his own high pitch giggling. Steph glowered at her former boyfriend and walked over to hand him said child.

 

“Wait—what?—No!”

 

Tim fumbled to grasp the child before Steph let go, panic now filling his eyes.

 

“Oh, come on! You’re the woman——“

 

“I would think very carefully about your next words, Nerd.”

 

“Uh, I just meant, that, um, you went to more of those classes than I did…so um, wouldn’t you—“

 

 

“Nope—!” Steph chirped back as she sashayed back to the common area.

 

Tim sighed as Damian reached out with his chubby hands and pat his elder brother’s face.

 

“Alright shrimp, let’s get this over with. Here’s hoping you don’t remember this and kill me in my sleep.”

 

Damian just babbled at him, his grin a little sharper than before.

 

“Ok, we should do this in the bathroom.”

 

Stephanie brought him the necessary supplies and stood in the doorway, a smirk on her lips as she watch him struggle. 

 

“Kinda sad, that a genius is struggling to get a diaper on a baby.”

 

“This isn’t a baby, this is a baby ninja assassin; who wiggles around like a worm.”

 

Stephanie chuckles at his misfortune. 

 

Ten minutes later and Stephanie finally takes pity on the clearly inept teenager. With deft hands, she has Damian all situated in less than a minute with Tim just gaping at her like a fish.

 

“How—?”

 

“I used to babysit for neighbors. I could do this in my sleep.”

 

There was admiration in Tim’s eyes as he watched her.

 

“My eyes are up here, Robbie.”

 

A wine broke the moment causing both sets of eyes to glance down at the current predicament. 

 

“Uh oh,” Steph muttered.

 

“What do you mean, ‘uh oh?’ ”

 

“Someone’s hungry!” Stephanie gathered Damian up into her arms and heads out towards the kitchen. Tim took a moment to dispose of the used products before he trailed after her. She glanced at him.

 

“You might want to remove that shirt.”

 

“What, why?”

 

“Feeding a baby can be an….involved process.”

 

Tim just shrugged and grabbed some of the food off of the counter and approached Steph with it. Sliding it onto the table, he watched as she secured Damian to her lap before reaching for a bottle of baby food.

 

“Actually, you should be doing this.”

 

“What? Me, why? He looks just fine with you.”

 

“Yes, but I am in the middle of finals, I should be studying (despite how much I don’t want to); as I will not be here for most of the time.”

 

Tim cringes, but concedes her point. They switch positions and with it apparently Damian’s mood. He fussed more. Awkwardly Tim tried to do what he had seen Stephanie do but with much less success. Spoon after spoon of food barely made its way into Damian’s mouth, most of it just went down his front and ultimately into Tim’s lap. He cringed at the feeling of the mush sliding down his inner thigh.

 

“Maybe we should try the bananas—?”

 

Stephanie already had one cut into half moons which she slid onto the surface of the table. Damian seemed to have great fun sticking his hands in them and smooshing them in his hands before smashing them into his mouth. The debacle continued for half an hour and when it was done, Tim could see pieces of food everywhere within a five foot radius including his and Damian’s hair.

 

He heard the quiet schnik of a camera shutter and turned to see Steph grinning back at him, phone in hand. 

 

“Your face! You look like you’ve been through some sort of war zone.”

 

“I—just—how? What? It shouldn’t even be possible—“

 

“Welcome to parenthood.”

 

The dazed look on Tim’s face didn’t abate. 

 

“Ok, we’ve got to hurry, I only have enough time to go over cleaning a baby before I really need to go study.”

 

“You’re going to leave me alone with him—?!”

 

“You’ll be fine, boy wonder.”

 

“He’ll probably try to smother me in my sleep,” Tim muttered under his breath.

 

“Ok, stop. He’s just a baby—“

 

“—Ninja baby—“

 

“A baby. And you will have to take care of him. He is depending on you. Suck it up. This is a rare opportunity that you have been gifted! You get to see your baby brother when he actually is a baby; at a time where in his own life he probably didn’t get the affection a baby needs and deserves—“ Her voice chokes off, tears stream down her face.

 

Tim sighs, his arms still around the sleepy child as he gets to his feet. He reaches out to Steph and pulls her against him.

 

“I know, I’m sorry Steph. This must be really hard on you. I just, I don’t know what I am doing.I was fine before but I think, I think it’s just starting to hit me now, you know? I-I don’t know what to do with a baby, especially Damian. I-I didn’t have the best role models growing up. I just, I am overwhelmed and I was trying to lighten the mood and clearly I failed in that too.”

 

Damian wiggled in his arms at the weight of Steph against him with Tim on the other side, but he quieted down. Steph sniffled as she tried to reign in her emotions.

 

“I know Tim, I know. I’m sorry. I just—I wonder some days—“

 

“—if you did the right thing? Yeah, I get it. You made an incredibly brave and hard decision but you did it with their best interests at heart; especially at that time. You are so strong, never doubt that. You. Are. Strong. Much stronger than I am. I don’t know how you do it but I am grateful to have you on my side.”

 

“You sap.”

 

Tim just chuckles as he holds them both, one in each arm. His mind already starts coming up with different things he needs to address in the coming days if Damian doesn’t return to his normal age on his own. ‘God, I wish Bruce and Alfred were here. He shouldn’t have to miss his childhood for a second time.’

 

Eventually they separated and Stephanie showed Tim the basics of caring for a baby and left before she could change her mind, shirt intact. 

 

Tim looked down at the now clean baby, snuffling quietly in his arms, his mind marveling again at the fact that was now a single parent for all intents and purposes and what the heck he was supposed to do now. He returned to his bed and used his pillows to create a barrier for Damian, to ensure that de doesn’t roll off in the night while he gets his laptop powered up and starts to make his plans. 

 

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

 

The next day dawned brightly, and loudly as the cries of an infant rend the air. Tim jerks awake, his mind frantically trying to ascertain why there was a baby screaming in his ear. Blearily he looks down and find a child waving its arms and legs in the air. A deep breath revealed the reason. Cursing, Tim sprang out of bed, scooped the child up and dashed for the bathroom. Kneeling down, he spread the small mat out and laid Damian down. Undoing the straps to the diaper, he nearly gagged to find a spectacular mess awaiting him. Cringing, Tim breathed in through his mouth as he tackled his first mission of the day.

 

 

Once the deed was done, he returned the now semi-content Damian to his pillow barrier so he could finish cleaning up. He double bagged the used wipes and diapers and left them in the bathroom trash since this would be a reoccurring mission. As he returned to the bedroom, he gaped in surprise to find Damian halfway across the bed and approaching the edge. With a shout and a lunged, Tim flung himself onto the bed, hands outstretched to catch him by ankle before his body disappeared off the bed. Heart beating wildly, Tim did not appreciate the enthusiast giggle and chatter from the fearless baby. Pulling him more securely in his arms, Tim just lay there with Damian pressed against his chest, his breathing ragged.

 

‘He won’t have to kill me himself, my heart won’t take it.’

 

The chirp of his phone provided the necessary grounding to allow his hands to move towards it, albeit shakily. With a flick of his fingers he found a text from Steph to remind him to take ample photos throughout the day. Rolling on his back, he fitted Damian into his preferred position before he lifted the phone to take a selfie (his first ever if truth be told). With that done, he sent it off to Steph before he set the phone down. ‘OK, so food should be next, right?’ A quick glance at the clock had him re-think his initial thought. ‘Maybe it’s a bit too early.’ Determined not to set the baby down again without direct supervision, he first grabbed a t-shirt and pants to be prepared. 

 

Laying the clothes on the bed, he set Damian back down in his barrier and then climbed on top, kneeling over him, using his legs to corral the kid in place while he quickly slipped his shirt on then awkwardly wiggle into his pants, one leg at a time in an effort to keep Damian from leaping off the edge again. Once down, he returned Damian to his arms and walked barefoot to his sliding glass door and went out to his patio. Meandering to his favorite lounge chair, he settled down and waited for the sun to crest over the nearby buildings. Damian wiggled in his arms, attempting to turn himself towards the light. Taking the hint, Tim allowed him to face more outwards. 

 

It was a relatively quiet morning, the birds trilled from their perch nearby as they ruffled their feathers in the light wind. For the first time in a long time, Tim just lay there and absorbed the sights and sounds around him. After several long minutes, Tim became aware of Damian’s focus. The child had his face turned towards the sounds of the birdsong, his face rapt with awe. Moving slowly, Tim pulled himself up and moved closer to the birds. Damian’s eyes were wide with rapture, a smile on his face. Tim crept a little closure, and the birds regarded them with some interest. One stood at the edge of their nest, looking down at the duo, head tilted to the side. A trill bid them hello. Damian squeal. The bird answered back. 

 

Tim marveled that the birds seemed to react to Damian quite well. ‘Great, he can get along with birds but not his brother.’ Swiftly Tim squashed the thought. As the morning wore on, Tim knew he’d have to face reality soon. That he couldn’t put off the plans he started preparing for the night before.

 

“Yo, Timbers! Timbo, where are you?”

 

Tim startled, causing Damian to cry out and the birds to take flight. This lead to Damian start screaming at the disruption of his game with the birds and Tim to cringe at the wailing in his ear, which in turn lead to Jason charging through the sliding door with guns held aloft. Tim stared unimpressed at Jason, who stared back at the baby currently nestled in his arm. Tim bestowed an Alfred weighted eyebrow which shocked the older brother into holstering his guns in favor of approaching the two.

 

“Timmy, is there something you need to tell me? Something pretty significant? Oh gods, you and Steph??”

 

“Really Jason, just….really?”

 

“Hey! Don’t blame me, I’m not the one with a baby in their arms. By the way, can you turn it off?”

 

“Oh, yes, sure let me just find the off switch. It’s a baby you moron.”

 

“Whoa, who spit in your coffee this morning?”

 

“You metaphorically did when you made the birds fly away!”

 

“Ok, let’s just stay calm, and back up. What birds, who is the kid and why do you have him?”

 

“The birds were entertaining him, this is Damian and I was there when this happened.”

 

“When you say Damian—“

 

“Damian, former ninja assassin baby, the blood son of Bruce Wayne, what other Damian do you know?!”

 

“Ok, you haven’t had coffee this morning have you? I am going to go back inside, make a gallon or two and then you’ll start from the beginning.”

 

Tim just muttered darkly to himself as he set about walking in random patterns, his hand rubbing the center of Damian’s back as he tried to calm him down with varying degrees of success. Nerves shot, Tim tried not plot Jason’s next death at his untimely intrusion into their formerly peaceful morning.

 

A steaming up of coffee was waved enticingly below his nose before he noticed and he used one hand to reach for it, nearly forgetting about the wailing child in his arms. Luckily Jason seemed to anticipate this and made the switch with little trouble. The shock of the transfer caused Damian to cease his wailing, his tiny chest shuddering at the exertion of it all. His wide eyes stared up at Jason’s face, who made a face back at him.

 

“Sweet, sweet nectar of the Gods, I swear,” Tim mumbled reverently as he took his first cautious sip.

 

Damian reached one hand up and with the grip of a ninja baby, latched onto the white forelock and pulled. Jason yelped in surprise, one hand immediately working at getting the tiny fist to release his hair. Tim just sipped his coffee, his scowl softening with each subsequent sip.

 

“Ok, enough reveling, spill Tim.”

 

“Cliff notes, in the course of our fighting some new villain who didn’t even have the decency to monologue to us, Damian was apparently hit with some sort of de-aging spell last night. Since I was the only one there, I could just leave him. Bruce and Dick are off-world, Alfred is in Europe (as you know), so I took him home with me.”

 

“Why didn’t you call me?”

 

“I kinda freaked out and forgot—?”

 

“Figures. Well, I’m here now, what do you need?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, well the original is a terror but this is a baby. No way am I going to miss out on blackmail possibilities.”

 

“Ah, that sounds better.”

 

They just grinned at each other, ‘oh the possibilities.’

 

 

—————

 

A/N: Rehabilitated Sith

8/20/19

 

This is just part 1 of this mini-series. Honestly, we haven’t even gotten to the part that triggered this story but as I am long winded and wanted to build a real relationship between them, it is a necessary evil. 

 

Reviews fuel my muse. Let me know what you think! I hope I had their interactions somewhat believable. All mistakes are proudly my own, let me know if you find them!


	8. Interlude:  Chapter 9: Never Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is meant to hurt. TRIGGER WARNING: Lots of angst, and Major Character Death and all sorts of hurtful emotions.

Never Again

 

_I knew I should have called ahead as soon as we got back in_ , Jason mused to himself as he took a few moments to bypass Tim’s cumbersome security measures. He barely pays attention to the fact that the only block he finds in place is an old manual deadbolt. With a metaphorical pat on his back, Jason whistled cheerfully to himself as he lets in. 

 

“Yo, Timber—-s—-“ The cheerful call dies down as he takes in Tim’s favorite safe house. Dim lighting flickers intermittently overhead, casting the hallway into shadows. With a flick of his fingers, Jason had his guns in hand, ready. Quick glances in either direction confirms that for the meantime he is alone. Keeping his back to the wall, he inches his way toward’s Tim’s main control area. 

 

The closer he gets, the faster he speeds up as he sees all the tall tale signs of a major battle. Furniture is overturned, deep scratches are gouged into the heavy steel plating. Jason freezes. There is an unmistakable stench in the air. One that he is intimately familiar with, one that shouldn’t be in a place like this. Not here, not at Tim’s. Without another thought, he hits the emergency button on his belt while he continues his search of the ransacked safe house.

 

His feet carry him with frantic steps, one gun in hand the other empty. The only light that illuminates the room comes from a flickering large screen monitor. The next sense that registers is sound, the ear splitting constant beeping of a backup battery warning of its imminent demise. 

 

A dark stain catches Jason’s eye. He follows the blatant trail until he sees the boot. He beside the body, his hand returning the gun to its holster as the other reaches out. The poor lightning hides much of the body in shadows but the smell tell Jason all he needs to know.

 

“Ti—m?”

 

The skin is cold to the touch, gray and slightly tacky. There is discoloration from where blood caked his face. His eyes were open, unseeing, a murky blue nearly gray in their paleness. Luckily the place is sealed so tightly that there are no disturbances from bugs but that also means that there hasn’t been any moving air in quite some time. 

 

Jason fights back the nausea. He doesn’t check for a pulse. His eyes sweep the area, taking in the large pool of blood, the blades still stuck in the cement, the trail from where he pulled himself until he reached the wall where he slumped in place. Just out of reach lays his cell phone. Jason pick it up. The movement wakes the phone up, its battery is low. The screen is just barely visible; on it is a call log. 

 

Jason nearly drops the phone. There is a list of calls that were never connected, starting with his own number. His hands tremble, so much so that the screen is barely readable admits the shaking. 

 

“—HOOD!”

 

Jason jerks as a voice yells in his ear, he had forgotten that he was wearing his comm set. It takes him a moment of fumbling before he is able to answer it.

 

“—Where were you?” The worse are terse, and low.

 

“I’ve been off world—-“

 

“Did anyone know?!”

 

“My team—-“

 

“Damn your team! Did you tell the family?”

 

“There wasn’t any time—-“

 

“Bull——it takes only a second. He-he didn’t know.”

 

“Who? Jason what is going on? Why are you at Tim’s?”

 

“He tried to call you. He tried you, Batman, Alfred, even the Gremlin. No one answered.”

 

“What do you mean? Jason?! Where’s Tim?”

 

Jason didn’t answer, he tore the comm out and threw it against the wall with a scream. His other hand let Tim’s phone fall to the ground, briefly light the area. Jason felt the moment his breath hitched as the light reflected off of something in Tim’s hand. Reaching for it, Jason fingers the wilted flower. A black dahlia with flecks of blood splattered on its petals. Several of the petals fluttered to the ground at its displacement.

 

Jason’s hand clenched into a fist, snapping its frail stem.Hatred burned in his belly, hot and unquenchable. A need to know who did this lit in his breast. With quick, jerky movements he stood and made his way over to the console. Several taps on it woke the computer up, and with a few more keystrokes he was in; Tim having created a login specifically for him. He accessed the security feed. 

 

He watched as Tim’s system was systematically dismantled, how his safe place was invaded, violated. He watched the moment Tim became aware of the presence stalking him. He watched as he defended his person with a skill that he rarely displayed. Tim didn’t hold back, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to defeat his opponent. 

 

He watched them struggle, as Tim tried to activate his emergency beacons, only to discover that they had already been destroyed. He saw the moment the realization of his inability to win but his resolve to give as good as he got. He saw the moment he went down, the blows that came after. He saw the emotions that flit across his face as he realized that he had been betrayed. No one could have gotten past his defenses as quick as he had without insider information.

 

Jason saw the moment Tim tried to call out for help, probably thinking Superman or Superboy could hear him. He saw the light and blood leaving his body. When the flower was pressed into the still warm hand, as his assailant leaned over him and whose words sent lines of stress and pain across Tim’s body.

 

He saw the last moments, as the perpetrator gripped Tim’s jaw in a last demeaning gesture. Then the moments after he was left alone, that he struggled to call for help. The countless numbers that went unanswered. The resignation. The hopelessness. 

 

Jason backed away from the console, his legs barely able to hold his body up as grief crashed over him, warning with the self-loathing. The disbelief that he missed the call because he had been with he outlaws across the multiverse. Knowing he there was no way to have received the call doesn’t negate the guilt at not being there. He crumbles to the ground, the strength having finally left him. He refuses to leave Tim alone any longer. He follows the same trail as Tim, dragging himself up next to him, regardless of the overwhelming smell. He leans back against the same wall, his one hand reaching out for Tim’s. His fingers seeking out the wrist that lies limp against the concrete. 

 

There he finds nothing. No solace. No comfort. No heartbeat. No miraculous recovery. He finds himself alone in a room with his younger brother. Again, he finds that he must greet his old friend, Death and again he curses his own existence. He wishes he had never come back. That it had been him instead. No matter his grievances, Tim never deserved his fate. Jason knew how hard he tried, how lonely he felt and he cursed his own role in Tim’s choices. If only he had been a better brother. If he had taken more time. If only. 

 

Jason was once again alone.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I just need to throw myself into writing as I have been struggling to get the transition for the previous story. Hopefully this will help to shake the muse loose.
> 
> Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross posted on ff.net


End file.
